Wife of the Wolf, Husband of the Sun

Chapter Fifty-Five

Winterfell was always beautiful, always a source of comfort for him, and even in the hardest of times, or at least it always had been. In times such as this however, the comfort that Ned had come to expect from Winterfell was not as ready as it always had been. Part of it was due to waiting for Lord Hoster to come and meet with them in Winterfell but that was not the only reason that everything seemed more difficult as of late.

Returning from Dorne had been arduous and not for the first time, Ned wondered if it might have been better to return overland instead of by ship but if they had then they would have passed too close past King's Landing if they had taken the route through the Prince's Pass and would have fallen under the King's gaze. They could have gone through the Boneway which would take them through the Stormlands as if Ned was sure of anything it was that he could trust Robert more than anyone else and that he would welcome them with open arms if they turned up at Storm's End.

But either way overland they would eventually have to cross through the Riverlands and that would mean putting themselves at the mercy of Lord Hoster and hoping that they would be able to pass through unnoticed. If they had gone overland, Ned didn't doubt they would've wound up the guests of either King Aerys with the threat of being burned alive or guests of Lord Hoster to gain some leverage over his Father.

No, he knew that going by sea had been the safest option but it had taken a great deal out of Elia, she had come down with a fever and for a few days that never seemed to end he had been terrified that he would lose her, that their sons would grow without their mother to watch them, to watch them grow into little boys and spar with wooden swords before learning how to use true steel, to watch them grow into men who would take wives of their own and have their own children make them both grandparents.

He could think of nothing worse, if she wasn't able to see all of that. He had covered her with every blanket and scrap of fur he had been able to find on the boat, and that by itself had lead to some tense moments which had lead to him not taking of his swordbelt for the rest of the voyage back to the North. He had also practically poured hot spiced wine and onion broth down her throat to try and keep her strength up and to break the fever.

Alas, she seemed to simply hover in her fever for almost all of the journey, not getting any worse which he was beyond thankful for but she didn't seem to get any better either and it had terrified him. Care for their sons had thus fallen on to him as well and that had left him exhausted, he had los track of how many nights he had shut his eyes for a moment only to be woken up once again by the cry of a babe or by Elia succumbing to another fit of coughing.

By the time their ship had finally arrived in White Harbour, Ned was half feverish himself and he was ready to collapse himself when they finally presented themselves to Lord Wyman at the Merman's Court. Considering all the services that the man had done for them and his house over the recent moons, Ned didn't doubt that soon enough there would be a Manderly married to a Stark soon enough.

Lord Wyman didn't have any daughters, as far as he was aware and while he did have sons Lyanna was his father's only daughter and she was promised to Robert. More than likely, if Ned had to guess, Benjen was going to find himself as a ward of Lord Wyman and when he did finally have a daughter of his own Benjen would find himself wed to her.

It was odd to think of Benjen as being betrothed to someone, in truth he was a little older than most boys were when they were fostered, he was older than both Ned and Brandon had been when they had both been fostered off, to the Vale for Ned and to Barrowtown for Brandon. Ned really wasn't sure why his Father had waited so long to send Benjen off but if he had to guess, he had to assume that it was because he had sent both of his older sons away when duty called, he had wanted to keep at least one son close to raise as his own.

But duty was always the one thing that Starks couldn't avoid and soon Winter would be over but it would always come again and again and again and they would have to be ready for it. Childhood melted away as easily as summer did and Benjen would have to become a man if he was to face it, even though he had to admit that the thought of him growing up did bring a sadness on to him, when he thought of Benjen the first thing that came to his mind was the little boy who would always follow him through out the halls of Winterfell when he had come visiting from the Vale, with scraped knees and a sword made of wood and messy black hair and make him promise to not tell Father about sparing with Lyanna.

Whatever Lord Wyman would expect or plan as a reward for his service, at the moment he had arrived with a wife that was half dead, two babes who were feverish to the touch and shitting their swaddling and he barely being able to stand due to taking care of all of them, Lord Wyman had summoned his maester and nursemaids and septas and the moment that he was placed in a spacious chamber, in a large and comfortable bed that was stuffed with goose feathers and soft silk pillows, he was asleep in a matter of moments.

When he woke, the Maester told him that he had been asleep for over five days and both Elia and the babes were almost completely recovered. While Ned knew the Maester had no reason to lie him, he had wanted to see his family with his own eyes to make sure of it for himself. Elia had been placed in a bed chamber with a bed easily capable of holding three men of Lord Wyman's size.

She looked almost pale, too pale. But once she saw him the smile she gave him could still threaten to outshine the sun itself, she had a glass of hot spiced wine with a squeeze of a raw lemon mixed in and she had been nibbling on goat cheese and black olives and some fresh baked bread. Ned had sat with her for close to an hour before he had gone to check both of the boys.

When he walked into the Nursery of White Harbour and saw both of the boys playing with a wooden wolf and a set of small wooden soldiers, painted in the colours of House Manderly bearing merman on their little wooden shields, all under the careful eye of a big boned, heavy breasted Septa with a face lined like old leather and with eyes as hard as sleet, eyes meant to watch out for any mischief.

He spent as much time with them as he could, more than he had done with Elia it ashamed him to admit as he looked back on all of it now. The sky had still been light when he had walked into the Nursery but when Lord Wyman had invited him to sup with him in his own private solar, an invitation that he couldn't have refused even if he had wanted too, the sky had turned black and there had been a sharp chill in the air.

Lord Wyman was a man who loved to eat, everyone in the North knew that. His Lord Father had been much the same and in truth what could be expected when you seat was situated in a place of great bounty, White Harbour was surrounded by fertile lands to grow crops and to raise cattle and sheeps and aurrochs, waters full of life and able bodied fishermen that went out every day and trading ships that brought in foods and spices from the lands across the oceans every single day.

Ned never considered himself a greedy man, but he didn't doubt that if he had been raised at White Harbour as well then he mostly likely would not exactly be a small man. Lord Wyman's generosity clearly extended to his table as well, Ned didn't think he had ever eaten as well as he had done that night.

Capons that had been drowned in butter and serve with a with carrots and raisins and parsnips and red grapes mixed together, freshly caught cod that had been fried and was served with peas and onions, crab legs coated with salt and served with butter and mashed neeps, a hot crab pie with roasted squash, lamprey pies, squids, a fish stew thick with cream, clams and oysters with a tart vinegar and with every single course there had come fresh baked bread and plenty of butter and cheeses.

Ned had been to full by far to try any of the sweets that had come later, though he had forced himself to sample a lemon cake and two lavender biscuits so as to not seem rude, but that did not deter Lord Wyman. He had three honey cakes brought out, all of them soaked in extra honey and each of which looked as large as a flour wheel, there were also lavender biscuits, fruit tarts, lemon cakes, a selection of various fruits some of which he had never seen before, cheeses that were veined with sweet wine and a winter cake, made of fruits and nuts.

Lord Wyman had been able to finish an entire honey cake by himself, a few pieces of cheese, four lemon cakes, two blackberry tarts and half of a winter cake. The food had been taken away, to be shared among the servants and the poor of White Harbor. When all of the food had come and gone, all that was left for them to do was talk.

The conversation had started out light enough, Wyman had asked him how Elia and the children had been fairing since they had been under his care and Ned had responded that they were doing well and that he and House Stark owed him and his household a great debt, exactly what Lord Wyman wanted to hear. Wyman had smiled at his words and finished off his cup of wine.

From there, Wyman had asked about his father and his siblings and Ned told him that they were well and that hopefully they would be able to make a visit to White Harbour as one. Ned didn't know how much the rest of the lords of the North knew about Brandon fleeing, but the safest bet was to assume that they all knew nothing about it and to act like he knew nothing as well.

The rest of the night had slipped away and once all the niceties had been said Ned stood up and made his way to Elia's chamber, his wife had been asleep when he made his way to her but that didn't stop him from climbing into bed and wrapping his arms around her. A full belly and the sound of her breath and the comforting weight of her in his arms drew him off to sleep.

The next morning, Ned knew that they had to continue their journey on to Winterfell. Lord Wyman was quick to offer his roof for as long as they required it but denied him with as much grace as he could. All he had asked for was a wheelhouse for Elia and the babes to travel in and a stallion for himself. The Lord of White Harbor gave him what he needed and more, a small escort of ten knights to ensure they made it back to Winterfell safely.

He didn't have to, but Ned couldn't deny that the escort did make him feel slightly better as they raced onward to Winterfell. He was also thankful that the escort wasn't overly large either, it was large enough to dissuade any bandits or brigands on the road from trying to attack them but it wasn't so large that they would find themselves making no time at all.

Hoster Tully had far less distance to travel and Ned had wasted far too much time sleeping, he should have woken up earlier and rode to Winterfell while leaving Elia and the children in Wyman's care till all was done. If war came to the North, then White Harbour might be one of the safest places for her to be.

Not that Elia would hear it, she refused to be left even though Ned tried to tell her that she had been on death's door, that she needed to stay here and rest with the babes to regain her strength. Alas, she wouldn't be told and she made it clear to him that he would ask Lord Wyman to supply a wheelhouse for both herself and the babes to travel in, they would not be separated again.

Six days after leaving White Harbour, they had arrived back in Winterfell. He hadn't entirely been sure what he had been expecting when he rode through the gate of the castle, knights surrounding him at every side and the wheelhouse trundling after him. No, that was a lie. When he had read Lya's letting in the Water Gardens of Dorne, the words chilling him to the bone so not even the bright and brilliant sun of Dorne in the clear blue sky could warm him, he had been expecting to arrive back to utter chaos.

He was disappointed in that regard, there were no fires burning nor armies laying siege to the castle, nor even any of his father's bannermen gathering here to gain their strength. The glass houses stood as they always did and stable boys tended to the horses, Ned had caught sight of Hordor once had had ridden in bringing in two large bales of hay over his shoulder, and serving girls were drawing buckets of water from the well and carrying them into the kitchens.

His father had explained it all soon enough once he had presented himself to him in the main hall with Elia at his side, the chaos had passed a few days after Brandon had left and now they were simply waiting for Lord Hoster to arrive, two days ago a raven had arrived from Moat Cailin that the Lord of Riverrun, his brother and three hundred swords were riding up the causeway.

Ned wasn't a fool, he knew that Hoster couldn't hope to take Winterfell or even threaten it with only three hundred men at his back, but the simple fact he had brought armed men with him was message enough. Three more days had passed since then and now they were simply waiting for Lord Hoster to arrive in the small private dining room.

More than anything, at this moment all Ned wanted was to have his wife at his side but the day after they had arrived back in Winterfell, another fever had fallen on to her and the maester had confined her to their bedchamber with no visitors other than the maester himself. He did not believe that she was in much actual danger, simply that she had exhausted herself and with her delicate constitution it had been more hard on her than it would have on most and all she truly needed was rest.

He reminded himself to go and check on her as soon as this was done, at the moment he and his father, Lyanna and Benjen were the only ones standing in the dinning room as they waited for Lord Hoster to be brought to them. Ned wasn't sure if was a smart move or not, a Lord Paramount being brought to another could be seen as insulting, as though the lord was somehow beneath them but at the same time this was Winterfell, his Lord Father's lands, the seat of his power and the heart of the North.

Perhaps the hidden warning would serve Lord Tully well when it came to it.

The door to the room opened and it wasn't Lord Hoster, but it was a Tully. Lady Catelyn's face was pale, her blue eyes were as hard as stone and her red hair bound in a hair net. Her dress was velvet, dyed black with pearls around her neck and moonstones in her hair net. It took Ned a moment to realise that she was in mourning, though for who he couldn't quite be sure.

According to Lya, she had been spending the past few weeks barricaded in her room and refusing to come out after she had sent her letter which had brought her Father on his way to the North. She wasn't refusing to eat at the very least, and that indeed was something. The last thing they needed was her starving together while she was their...guest.

Gods old and new, how did everything go so very wrong? Prince Doran's words floated in front of his head and he shook them away, he refused to believe it. Father surely wouldn't do such a thing, he couldn't truly know anything of Brandon and Ashara, his Father wouldn't have turned a blind eye and watched as his brother destroyed his own life, throw his birth right away.

He wouldn't do that to Brandon, he wouldn't do that to him. He couldn't.

Lady Catelyn let her eyes drift over all of them for a moment before she straightened her spine as she stared straight at Lord Rickard. "My Lord, I see that my Father has not arrive as of yet. Do we know when he will be here?"

Rickard Stark examined her for a few moments and then spoke out. "I don't doubt he will be much longer at all, my Lady. My scouts reported sight of a train coming this way, three hundred men at least. I would say they will be here soon enough, why don't you take a seat for now? Might I send for you some food from the kitchens? You must needs keep your strength up, for yourself and for the child."

Lady Catelyn frowned slightly as her hands dropped to cup the gentle swell of her belly, noticeable now even through the thick fabric of the dress. That was his nephew or his niece in there, and Brandon had abandoned them. Ned wasn't blind to what his brother was, he knew that he liked to ride and drink and whore but he never thought for a moment that he would abandon the woman he wed, certainly not when she was carrying his child.

He was wrong about, what else had he been wrong about?

"No, I thank you my Lord, but I am not hungry at the moment. I think I shall wait for my Father to come before I eat." Catelyn Tully did not break her eye contact with him as she pulled out a chair from the table and sat down in it. Ned knew that some people could call him cold, but right now Lady Catelyn was as cold as ice and just as dangerous. Not that he could truly blame her for that, of course.

Lord Rickard nodded and sat back down in his own chair and gestured for his children to take their own seats, which they all quickly did. Brandon's absence was keenly felt, the man didn't know when to shut up and often that had always irritated him but now that he wasn't there to irritate him, he found that he missed more than words could say, the absence like a knife to his own heart.

A silence fell on the room then which was only occasionally broken by the sound of a horn of ale being raised to lips or someone letting out a cough. In the long stretches of silence that never seemed to end, all he wanted was Elia at his side to help him through all of this. A smaller, warmer hand to hold. Gods, this couldn't be over soon enough.

After what had felt like hours the door to the chamber opened once again and the maester of Winterfell scurried in, his chain jiggling with every step that he took and filling the air with the soft chink of metal. He seemed older than Ned had remembered him and there was worry in his eyes. "My Lord, Lord Hoster and his host are heading up the road as we speak with all haste. I imagine they will be here within the hour, shall you come to the courtyard to welcome them?"

His Father brought his horn of ale to his lips and took a sip from it. "No, I think not. Lord Hoster has taken it upon himself to come this far without my invitation and I am not going to trouble myself more than I should. Go and greet him Maester, and then bring him here to me and send word down to the kitchens to send the food up for us."

The maester bowed his head after a moment and then left the room while Lady Catelyn stared intently over the table at his Father, Ned imagine that if she could convince herself to do it, to lower the armour of her courtesy, then she would be sending Lord Rickard a glare that would be able to cut through his Father like a crossbow bolt through a steel breastplate

Thankfully, the silence that fell on them after the maester had left was a brief one as he soon returned with Lord Hoster and his brother, Ser Brynden. As soon as they walked in, Catelyn stood up from her chair and walked over to them and embraced her Father for a long moment before letting him ago and pulling her Uncle into an embrace that lasted just as long.

As his daughter was distracted with her brother, Lord Hoster strode forward and stared at Lord Rickard who had not rose to greet him for a moment before he bent his head slightly. "Lord Rickard, I thank you for inviting us into your hall and for bringing us to your table, such a great honour you do to us. As one Lord Paramount to another, I thank you for it. I hope you know that if you arrived in Riverrun after a long journey, I would offer you the exact same hospitality."

"I have no doubt about that at all, my Lord of Riverrun. Please, take a seat and you as well Ser Brynden. To have such a well known knight at my table is an unexpected joy. I have asked for some food to be brought up to us, even in the dead of Winter let it never be said that I would suffer a guest to be hungry while he is under my roof."

"I thank you." The courtesy was cold as the Lord of Riverrun strode forward and took hold of his seat and sat himself down, his brother sitting on his right while his daughter sat down on his left. "Winterfell is as beautiful as I remember it to be, whoever holds it after the gods see fit to take you into their arms, will be a lucky man indeed, or woman I suppose if the winds of fate blow us in that direction."

Lord Rickard hummed but said nothing as the door to the chamber opened and half a dozen serving men walked into the room with platters topped with bowls of leak and pea soup. The bowls were placed in front of them with each having half a loaf of brown oat bread to dip into the soup and in Ned's opinion it looked wonderful, but he had little appetite and that seemed to be shared by the rest of the table.

Catelyn took a few spoonful's of the soup so as to appear polite and despite his lack of appetite Ned forced himself to tear his loaf in half and dipped it into the soup and nodded at Lyanna and Benjen to do the same. They were in the dead of Winter and no food could go to waste, none of them knew how much longer it was going to last and every single scrap was to be cleaned away.

Soon, regardless of if they truly wished too or not, all of them were eating though it was not at all a pleasant experience. The air felt heavy, and almost chocking, the only sounds that could be heard was the slurping of soup. It was a very fine soup, seasoned with salt and pepper and thickened with cream and he was sad that he couldn't appreciate more.

The bowls were empty and all that was left of the bread was tiny crumbs, as the bowls were cleared away and the servants left to go and bring up the next course, Rickard picked up his horn of ale and took a sip of it before he spoke. "It is such a long journey between Riverrun and Winterfell, I remember making that journey myself. So many times in point of fact, so many interesting things we spoke of. And Riverrun, ah has there ever been a more beautiful castle? With it's white stone walls and blue tipped towers and the mighty rivers, I can not think why you would want to have come this far, in the dead of Winter."

"Let us not waste any more time then My Lord, I will not pretend that I and the rest of House Tully did not feel insulted when we heard about what you're son had done, insulting my daughter in such a way, abandoning her while she carried his child. Our grandchild, I trust that my Lord of Stark is just as outraged as I am about this matter? And is also having men hunt down Lord Brandon and his...consort, so they can be brought back here and face justice." There wasn't a hint of rage on Lord Hoster's face, it was as calm as a still lake but that almost seemed to make it worse. A calm sea that hide a thousand dangers under it's surface.

His Father thankfully, did not seem to be intimidated. He simply kept his eyes matched with Lord Hoster. "No one is more sorry for me about the insult that your family has suffered my Lord, I do indeed have men out looking for my wayward son but I am afraid is it not as simple as all that, the North is bigger than all other six kingdoms combined and Brandon is well known and well loved, he has many friends who might hide him, even from me. I can not say as to where he might be now, Lady Ashara is a lady of Dorne, perhaps they both went there?"

"I have sent a raven, both to the Lord of Starfall and to Prince Doran, the both of them claim that they have not seen them. But I can only take their word for it." The frustration in his voice was growing and Ned was suddenly glad that there were two armed guards waiting outside. "Regardless, I know that this is not your fault my Lord. Every family has their...wayward sons."

Ser Brynden glanced at his brother then and his stern face grew even sterner when a frown crossed over his features, he said nothing to his brother's words but he was clearly not happy though Lord Hoster paid no mind and carried on. "Regardless, we must move on as we must. Lord Brandon may have fled, but his heir grows in my sweet Catelyn. They will of course be the heir to Winterfell, and it's lord or lady when they come of age with one of your sons serving as Lord Protector of-"

"No." In the silence that followed his Lord Father's words, Ned was sure that the sound of a pin dropping would be as loud as a wardrum. Lord Rickard leaned forward and crossed his arms in front of him as he stared at Lord Hoster, who's calm mask looked like it was very close to slipping. "Your child will not be my heir, nor the heir to Winterfell. I am not leaving it in the hands of a babe, even with your generous offer to have one of my sons serve as Lord Protector."

At that moment, Lady Catelyn stood up and fold her hands back on to her belly as she stared down at Lord Rickard. "My Lord, I beg of you. I was once your Gooddaughter and I am still carrying you son's child, your grandchild. You can not truly wish for them to be set aside, to be left with nothing simply because their father committed a dishonourable act."

"That is not the reason why my Lady, your wedding to Brandon was not well loved by my bannermen. At many a feast, I heard the whispers. Why had Lord Rickard betrothed his heir to a southron woman, were none of the North's fine daughters good enough for him. From Moat Calin to Last Heath, White Harbour to Torrhen's Square, my banners bristled at what they see as an insult. Much the same was repeated when the union of my Ned to the Princess Elia was made known."

"And now, Brandon has fled and you and your Lord Father would try and make a southron babe that is not even born yet, heir to Winterfell? The people of the North would not stand for it and I am inclined to agree with them. One of my sons would be Lord Protector, no doubt about that, but you would remain and raise him as if your right as a Mother, to plead loyalty to Tully instead of Stark. I cannot have that, a Lord of Winterfell must be a Lord of the North, a son of Winter."

"Of course, that is only if he is a son. The child you might bare might be a daughter, an equal chance either way after all. Many of my Lord Bannermen might be more favourable to that, after all if you birth a daughter and that daughter grows to be Lady of Winterfell then she would need to wed a man, to birth her own children to be heirs and to help her hold the North. And Winterfell and the lands of my forefathers would pass from House Stark, to the house of another. Northmen are loyal, but never think that means they are such fools to overlook such a chance."

"But even then, that is only working on the assumption that you would betroth her to the son of a Northern House, what happens if you decide that the best match would be to a son of the Riverlands? I do not think you would be such a fool as to do that my Lady, but it is still a risk that I cannot take." He sighed then and shook his head. "And that is assuming many things, that the child will be born at all, it is still early yet, that the child will be born living, that the child won't die in it's crib. No, I can not take these chances."

Catelyn Tully's eyes shinned with tears and Ned couldn't help the surge of sorrow he felt for her as he watched her stand there, her shoulders and hands shaking slightly. Even so, she would not let her tears fall and the sorrow that Ned was feeling for her was joined with a sense of admiration as well. "So, that is to be my fate my Lord? Left with nothing, my child to be little better than a bastard? I cannot believe that you would think that right or fair or just."

"Your child will always have a place here my Lady, not as it's heir perhaps but as a Stark. Take the child back with you to Riverrun once Winter has ended, send them back to use. As a squire or a ward or whatever we happen to see fit. A future will be found for them, and they will be provided for. You have my word on that." That did not seem to sooth Lady Cateltyn, nor her Father who began to draw to his feet.

"Rickard, if you think that I am going to suffer this then you are very much mistaken." Lord Hoster practically spat the words as his brother joined him on his feet, not as angry as his brother appeared to be at first glance but he was certainly not at all happy either.

"Ben, Lya. I want you both to go and tell the cooks that we will not have any need for the further courses, have the leftovers spread among the castle servants and the people of Winter's Town." Ned made sure that he would give his thanks to the older gods later that night when his brother and sister but seemed to sense that it would not be for the best to argue and scurried out of the room as quickly as they could, thought Lyanna did cast a look back briefly before she stepped through the door.

Ser Brynden stepped forward and place his hand on Lady Catelyn's shoulder, and when he spoke his tone reminded Ned of his grandfather. "Cat, you look tired. Why don't you go and lie down, the babe will need it's rest and it won't do for you to be upset. Go and lie down and we will come and find you later." For a moment, Catelyn looked like she was about to argue but the moment passed and she nodded, her uncle pressed a kiss to her forehead and she left the room.

Meaning that all that was left was Ned, his Lord Father, Lord Hoster and Ser Brynden and none of the men looked happy. It was Lord Hoster who finally broke the silence. "I don't know, what it is your thinking of pulling here Rickard, but I warn you. It will not work the way that you think it will, I will not allow my Daughter to be dragged all this way, to be humiliated and insulted with a babe in the belly when you're bastard of a son ran off with a Dornish slut and her whelp."

"And I warn you, Hoster. I will not be threatened and I will not allow House Stark to fall into nothing, to have our lands stolen away from us. What my son did was unforgivable, and I have stripped him of his status as my heir to my lands and titles as well as any claim to Winterfell, he has nothing now aside from the Lady Ashara."

"And what does my daughter have, other than a child that is little better than a bastard? Despoiled, that is what she is now. I cannot make another match for her as she is, she will left in Riverrun as an old maid. A spinster." Hoster slammed his hands down on the table as he stared at Rickard, rage woven into every single inch of his fact. "My little Cat is dear to me, I will not let her suffer that."

"I do not intend to let her, Lady Catelyn is a victim in all of this and I do not intend to let what has happened to her go unanswered or indeed unpaid back."

"Then we are in agreement, Lady Catelyn will marry your Benjen and he will be made the heir to Winterfell." Ned wasn't sure who was more dumbfounded by the Lord of the Trident's words, His Father or the Riverlord's brother. "It is not a perfect solution to be sure, if things were different then I would suggest that she marry your Ned, the law states that he is the new heir if Brandon is disinherited but he is already wed and his union has brought forth children, so his marriage to Princess Elia can not be annulled."

Ned had never really stopped and thought what it meant if Brandon was disinherited before now, it mean that he was the heir of Winterfell. That he was going to be the Lord of Winterfell someday, he honestly didn't think that he had ever heard of something more terrifying than that. Winterfell was always meant to be for Brandon, how could he take that from him? But then, if what Lord Hoster wanted happened then it would seem that he did not need too worry about it.

His Lord Father, did not look phased. "No you're right my Lord, it cannot. But I do not intend to wed her to Benjen. He is too young and when he will be betrothed, it will be to a Northern girl to ensure to my Lord Bannermen that they are not forgotten. However, you are well aware that matters in the Vale are not settled as of yet when it comes to inheritance? Jon Arryn's heir is his nephew, Elbert Arryn he needs a bride and I am sure that if the child is kept out of sight, that a union between the great houses of the Riverlands and the Vale will not be a unsubstantial one."

"Perhaps, or maybe I will take my grievances to the King." The threat, both the spoken one and the one that was not were not subtle, but they hung in the air. "You forget that I am the closest to the capital, I have friends and many of them speak about the anger he bears for you and for Lord Tywin, much and more he would be so interested to learn."

His Father pushed his chair back and stood up, the two great lords staring at one another. "I don't doubt that he would, though of course for all the King is mad he is not a fool. He will wonder how you came by this information, if you tell him true then he will burn you alive and if you lie to him and he suspects, he will burn you alive and If I am dragged before him to be burnt, I shall have nothing to hide and he will burn you alive."

They stared at each for a moment that seemed to drag on into forever before Lord Hoster scuffed and stepped back. "Very well then, that seems to be the end of it. But don't imagine that I will forget this Rickard. I assume that we can trouble you for a bed for the night before we ride back home on the morrow."

"Of course you may stay the night, Hoster." Lord Tully scoffed and that seemed to be the end of it once he and his brother had left and Ned had the sudden desire for the largest pitcher of ale that men could carry.

"What just happened, exactly? What has been happening, none of it has made any sense!"

His Father stared at him in that way that made him feel like he was a little boy once again and that he was about to be in trouble. "I am not entire sure how much Doran told you, but first and foremost you have to understand that I love your Brother more than anything except for you and Ben and Lya, before I go any further do you understand that?"

Ned didn't know what he could say to that, so he simply nodded. "For all that I love your Brother, and I do. I know what he was, if he had not grown up by now then he is not going too. But what choice did I have, I would not and could not kill him lest I rip my heart in two and be cursed as a kinslayer, nor did I have any mechanism to legitimately disinherit him for someone more suited. So, I created one."

"To be sure, this was not planned since the beginning. Prince Doran certainly intended to improve his sister's prospects, which was why he sent Ashara and Lauryn with her. And yes, I know who Lauryn was the moment that I looked at her. I know a Stark when I see one, the girl was Brandon's blood and what Prince Doran had intended became obvious to me. I sent a Raven to Sunspear, letting him know that I knew and that luckily for him, it would work out best for the both of us."

"I kept close eyes, maids and wet nurses and stable boys would bring me word of what was happening between them, of the conversations that they were having. I lightened the guard on the walls of Winterfell when it became clear to me that Brandon was going to make his move and the gate that he slipped out of was left unguarded for a reason, Brandon didn't get away. I let him go."

"So...I could be your heir instead?" Ned let out a breath and closed his eyes as he tried to understand any of it, and found that even with all he said he could not. "You risked war with the Riverlands, just for that?"

"Not at all, many in our little alliance were worried about the power that Hoster was gaining. Catelyn married to your brother, himself Lord of Riverrun and Lady Lyse trying to seek a betrothal to Ser Jaime. We couldn't have that, so we decided to clip his claws. Some would say that a match to the Arryns of the Vale is better than the Starks, but Jon Arryn is your foster Father and Elbert is your friend, they are more with us than with Hoster and he knows that. But he want's a match for Catelyn and he will take that if it is offered. She is spoiled goods now, after all I am sad to say."

"And at any rate, he knows he has nothing. He can not go to the king, for doing so and unveiling us would mean that he would have to confess his own part. King Aerys is not the most forgiving of men, and he does deliver kind and merciful punishments. Hoster had chosen his side, and right now he knows it. When worst comes to worst, he will side with us. And if he does not, we will deal with that when it comes. At any rate, we will not by having war with the Riverlands today."

Ned didn't think he had ever felt so tired in his entire life and it felt as though someone was swinging a warhammer around in his head, trying to crack his skull open like Lord Wyman had done with those crab legs to suck on the tasty flesh below the red shell. "Father, I don't-I don't want to be the heir to Winterfell, it's a honour but it's not one I want. It's Brandon's right, it's meant for him."

His Father's gaze softened then, and he remembered a time when he had ran to him after some stable boys had mocked him for his too long face. Mother would ever have been his first choice but her time with Lya had been drawing near and thus in his desperation he had run to Father instead, who had held him and told him that it was alright to be hurt, to be scared but never to run. Starks didn't run.

"I know you didn't want it, but this is your duty now. And Starks have always done their duty Ned, you can not be any different when it comes to this. I will leave you to your thoughts, go and see your wife. There is much and more that needs to be done." And with that, Ned was left alone with only the slowly crackling fire to fill the silence.

After some time has passed, he left the room and began to make his way through the stone corridors of Winterfell until he found his way to Elia's chamber, it was one of the warmest in the castle but even so she was bundled in furs and a fire was burning in the heath. But for once, Ned found that he did not mind at all. He closed the door behind him and went over to the bed, crawling up so he would be next to her.

Elia was roused when he pressed a kiss to her cheek, she hummed when she saw him but his uncertainty must have been showing on his face because her eyes narrowed in concern and she tried to sit up. "Ned, what is? What's happened? Is Lord Hoster here? Has he done something?" She swallowed painfully then, her smaller hands finding his. "Is it to be war?"

"No, my love. There will be no war, not yet at least." He kissed the top of her forehead and laid her back down and rested his own head against his pillow, staring into her black eyes. "Let's just...forget, for a bit. Let's just dream, I will tell you all in the morning." Elia looked like she wanted to ask more, but she clearly thought better of it as she nodded and then wrapped her arms around his, resting her head on his chest.

Ned kissed the top of his wife's head, closed his eyes and held her close and fell into darkness, enjoying the temporary peace that it would give him. Though he did not doubt it would be the only peace that he would know.

End of Chapter Fifty-Five.

And breath.

Okay, so quite a bit came to head in this chapter and I think that's reflected in how long this one war, I hope everyone enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. Interestingly, one of my favourite characters in this story to write for so far is in fact Lord Rickard, I am considering actually writing a P.O.V chapter for him but I am not actually sure about that yet.

Some might have noticed that Elia wasn't as strongly featured in this, mainly because there are a lot of Elia chapters in here more than there are chapters focusing on Ned and I wanted to sort of readdress the balance, most of Winterfell is told from Ned's P.O.V for example but Elia is a major P.O.V character as well and she appears more in other peoples chapters than Ned does.

Anywho, as I said before I hope that you enjoyed this chapter and would please leave a review, a follow and a favourite. Constructive Criticism is always welcome.

With much love,

DiscordantSymphony